The Fever Called Living
by arsenic-graffiti
Summary: To the Shinigami, Muraki's strange talents were always a mystery. However, when Muraki's nephew is found, many secrets are revealed. As boundaries are crossed, they soon discover that not all the souls they reap are whole. Slash, Harry Potter crossover


**Disclaimer:** I own neither Harry Potter or Yami no Matsuei. It is one of my wishes, though, that I see the Harry Potter cast drawn Matsushita-style.

**A/N: **I am well into a crossover addiction phase, and thus I decided to write one of my own. It was to my great joy to discover that I could make the timelines of both series coincide. There were also several details that were oh-so-fun to connect... (smirk)

Theevents in this chapter (not including Muraki'sfirst introduction to his European relatives) take place after the timeline of _The Half-Blood Prince_, and amonth or sobefore the Nagasaki arc.

The title was inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's "For Annie". The first stanza is as follows:

_Thank Heaven! the crisis—_

_The danger is past,_

_And the lingering illness_

_Is over at last—_

_And the fever called "Living"_

_Is conquered at last._

Lastly, this fic is so far un-beta'ed. Please tell me, though, if you find the conversations in this chapter awkward.

**Warnings:** eventual slash/yaoi, violence, angst, character death in later chapters, and spoilers for all 6 HP books and for the YnM anime and manga. That's all, for now.

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**The Fever Called "Living"**

**Chapter 1**

"I also want you to take Potter out of England, preferably halfway across the world, in the soonest possible time. If he is to come with us, I would like to extend to him the same privileges my guardian and I have."

Draco winced internally at his wording. He had not much practice at making deals with anyone – or, at least, deals that would have repercussions on his person and on others. His father was better at this dance than he was. He simply lacked the experience that would go well with his training in politics and business; the power struggles in the shadows of the Slytherin dungeons seemed petty to what he was now facing.

Another thing that irked him was that Potter's success was a necessity to ensure his and his guardian's survival. While he wasn't sure that Potter would curb his bloodlust for his guardian even after all was said and done, the defeat of the Dark Lord would considerably widen his lifestyle options.

'Bloody Saint Potter wouldn't appreciate the effort I'm doing to save his arse anyway,' he thought, irritated. Oh, he knew that Potter would kill him the moment the Gryffindor spotted him, but it couldn't be helped. The teen had to admit that dealing with Potter was significantly easier to deal with than returning to the Dark Lord. Later on, though, he would discover that he'd change part of that conclusion to "slightly lesser". But all that would come later, after the month's end at the very least.

At the present, the only visible cool silver eye – the right eye was hidden again, he noted – regarded him with a calculating gaze.

"And what, pray tell, will you profit from this? From what I understand, this Potter boy would rather see you and your guardian destroyed. If what I've been hearing of your school days is anything to go by, the feeling is probably mutual. Unless…"

A short silence followed as Draco contemplated on the best way of answering to the open-ended statement. The blond teen shifted his gaze from the white clothed man seated across the small, round table to his pale hands that were resting on the cool, smooth glass. He could see the iron table supports and the stony cobbled street through the transparent surface. After a few moments, Draco spoke slowly with carefully chosen words.

"I am aware of the danger he poses on the wellbeing of my person and of my guardian's. However, I do believe that he would benefit from this trip. It could, perhaps, help him in putting things in perspective, especially because his grandfather's death may have affected him deeply."

What he didn't mention was that he hoped Potter would be closer to what he was searching for – the Horcruxes. It wouldn't do to overlook the possibility that one of them may have been taken from the country, and their destruction was a necessary step to defeat the Dark Lord.

He owed is guardian much more than a Life Debt, and getting Potter closer to the Horcruxes is a way of paying part of it.

Draco hadn't know of his surrogate uncle's true loyalties until Severus had double-apparated them to Muggle London instead of the Dark Lord's stronghold. After a few days in a Muggle apartment on the far side of town, they had decided that it wasn't safe for either of them to stay in the country. They had to get out, and Draco knew someone who could help them.

How Potter came into the equation was a slightly more complicated matter. Draco had noticed that Severus was prepared when he hid himself and his charge, and the youth asked him about it.

qpqpqp

"How is it possible that you managed to procure a living area in the soonest possible time, in Muggle London, no less?"

Severus stopped his pacing and he slowly turned to face Draco, who was sitting on the edge of the left of the two single-sized beds in the room.

"Albus and I had anticipated this day," he said, giving his charge a piercing look. "We both knew that he was going to die before the end of the term." The expression on the Potions Master's face was grave, stone like.

Draco's eyes widened at the implications of the statement. "Dumbledore? But…" He fell silent as he pressed his palms on his face and rested his elbows on the space between his knees. If Dumbledore knew of the Dark Lord's plan to murder him, then what else had he known? What information had Severus allowed to leak to the old man? There were so many possibilities, leading to so many consequences. "Merlin… the pit was deeper than I had thought…"

He felt callous hands on his. The removal of them from his line of sight revealed Severus kneeling in front of him, his black eyes glittering with emotions that Draco couldn't identify – until his guardian spoke.

"You and I both, Draco."

It was fear, weariness, and grief melded and mixed together, forming inner turmoil that further wore away both the tough shell and the soft, inner body of the man. It ate at him constantly, Draco realized, even before Severus had joined the ranks of Death Eaters under the Dark Lord's service. Now a new shadow joined the others in haunting his guardian: the knowledge that, after living all these years on borrowed time, he was a dead man walking. The world cried for his death, and Death would seek him out.

Never before had Draco seen this particular depth of emotion displayed before him by his surrogate uncle. It scared him to no end – his Uncle Severus was always the strong one, a sturdy rock amidst a sea of pressure and turmoil and never ending conflict.

"Oh Sev…"

And he hugged his Uncle Severus fiercely, as he had done all those years ago, when his Mother was away and his Father was busy and he wanted someone, _needed_ someone to chase away his nightmares. He knew that his Mother tried her best to be there for him, and he loved her for that, but his Uncle Sev'rus was special...

He cried in the older man's arms, and though Severus hadn't, couldn't, spare a moment for his own grief, he embraced his godson in silent comfort. Draco knew that a moment of weakness from his guardian could cost them both their lives, and so he grieved for himself and his godfather. He grieved for crushed childhoods, for lost chances, for burnt bridges…

Amidst Draco's sobs, Severus laid down the details of his life – part of his youth, his life at Hogwarts, his interactions with the Marauders and Lily Evans, his decision of joining the Dark Lord, his belief that his father should be stopped, his horror at the Dark Lord's activities, his decision to spy for Albus Dumbledore all those years ago, his joy at seeing Draco for the first time, his reasons for keeping Potter alive, and his involvement on both sides of the field in the events of the previous year…

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured after a while, so softly that Severus had to strain his ears to hear it.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Draco." The words were spoken in the same volume as Draco's previous words.

"But I do!" The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. More bitter than anything he had ever tasted. "Had I done my part, I wouldn't have dragged you along in the mess we're both in now."

"Not so." The strong tone his guardian used sparked something in Draco, and he felt the sudden urge to hit something. Instead, he settled on fisting his hands. Severus continued to speak a few moments after.

"Had you killed Dumbledore, you would have been Marked by the Dark Lord. The horrors you would have seen and experienced from that moment on would have been unspeakable, to the point of damnation. Besides, no matter what had happened, I still would have to choose where I went to next. It is inevitable that that moment would be the deciding point of my loyalty."

They stayed that way, with Draco sitting on the bed and clinging to Severus, who was still sitting on the hard, wooden floor.

Later, when he had quieted down after a while, Draco broke the silence. "What do we do now?"

"Potter and his friends will be looking for the remaining Horcruxes, should they choose to finish Dumbledore's work. Knowing Potter, they probably will." The Potions Master picked himself up from the unforgiving floor and walked over to a window opposite of Draco. His leather shoes made no noise.

"Before the Dark Lord can be destroyed, the Horcruxes must go first."

"I understand," Draco said quietly. Once, at the end of Christmas break, Severus had allowed him to overhear a conversation between himself and the deceased Headmaster. The purpose of that move eluded him, but now…

"We're going to help them." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. We are."

Outside the room, the sky was pitch black.

qpqpqp

A week after that conversation, Draco found himself walking down the streets of Muggle London on his way to the restaurant where he would meet his contact. The only reason that Severus had allowed him to go alone was because the Malfoy heir was in a disguise no one would suspect him of using. A year before, the use of Muggle clothing, dark-colored hair dye and black contact lenses on his person would have sent him into shock.

He prayed that not one of his schoolmates would ever find out. Even in such dark times, he still thought of the Malfoy reputation.

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Because it was dangerous to call upon Severus' other contacts, Draco had gotten in touch with a relative of his who could help. That person was the man sitting in front of him, under the shadow of the large green umbrella that shielded them from the sun's rays that shone on Muggle London one fine summer morning. His name was Kazukata Muraki.

He had met Muraki almost a year ago, the summer his father had been incarcerated in Azkaban. An underground contact his great grandfather had employed to watch over a runaway grandaunt of his had owled his mother to inform them that they had another relative living overseas. After a series of talks between mother and son (Lucius was not included in this particular issue, for both security and personal issues that were left unspoken), they had come to an agreement to meet the man. Narcissa had initially been irritated when the meeting was set in Muggle London, but the feeling subsided when she was informed that it was in the higher end of town.

Apparently there was some truth to the wizarding belief that those who had the Malfoy blood, half-breed or not, had no trouble in maintaining a lavish lifestyle.

Draco vaguely remembered that the booth they were in now was the same booth they had occupied that first time. His mother was seated beside him, and opposite of them were Muraki and their mutual contact, an English wizard named Stephen Lewis.

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It was some time after eating dinner that the conversation had steered towards deeper waters.

"So," began Narcissa, "Mr. Muraki. How is it that you came to be in Japan, far displaced from the main family?"

Muraki smiled at them pleasantly as he interlaced his fingers on his lap, comfortably reclining in his chair. "I have heard little of my mother's family, but from what I had gathered from the accounts of the people who knew them my father had brought her with him from his studies in Europe. She had quite a lovely collection of European porcelain dolls…"

No one knew how to respond to that last sentence, so his audience remained silent.

"After my parents' unfortunate deaths, I had decided to rummage through the things they had left behind. My father's medical journals were of interest – the family has always turned out doctors in the past few generations – as were my mother's memorabilia from her past home. The trinkets she had brought with her were of interest, though nothing had intrigued me more than the books she had brought with her…"

He took from his pocket a folded piece of paper. Listed on it were the titles of several books. Sliding it to Narcissa, he said, "I'm sure you would recognize some of these."

Narcissa took the paper from him, unfolded it, and read. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Lucius has been looking for these books. They were listed in the Manor's library book list, though they had been missing since…" She looked at Muraki. "Your mother took them with her when she left."

Muraki nodded, though there was no need to confirm it. His left eye (the other one was covered by platinum-shaded hair, the same color as Draco's and Lucius') held her gaze intently. "I found them to be rather informative on Western type magic. The incantations and rituals listed in them are vastly different from the Eastern incantations and rituals…" He smirked sardonically. "Magic, you see, is used differently in the East. From what I had gathered in the past years, those who desire or require the use of a wand must travel to Europe or to the Americas to procure one."

Narcissa's eyebrows rose fractionally, though the rest of her face retained neutrality. Draco, however, was more expressive.

"How is magic used in the East, then?"

Muraki chuckled and turned to him. "As much as I would like to answer that question, we would require time longer than the night could afford us. We could, however, meet at another time to continue that line of discussion."

Draco's face took on a thoughtful look. Was his uncle a wizard, then? Or was he a practitioner of Eastern magic? What were wizards and witches called in the Oriental areas? He had many questions, but he voiced only one other. "Is there a Ministry of Magic in Japan, then?"

Lewis, who had been silent since the start of the discussion, was the one who answered the question.

"Japan, and several other Asian countries, has no formal magical government. Magic, you see, is so woven into their culture and tradition that there is almost no need to hide its existence. However, the knowledge of using it is limited to certain groups of people, such as old prestigious family clans and local monk sects. The information has always been a well-kept secret in the group and, during the days when their practitioners were more prominent, people who betrayed the clan were killed for treason. This is only a general and shortened view of it, of course, but it should be enough for the time being."

Narcissa nodded thoughtfully. "Of course."

They made 'light' conversation afterwards, though it proved to be mildly entertaining. It was much later, as Muraki was sharing with them his thoughts on Renaissance art, that Narcissa noticed the time.

"Ah! I apologize. The night is short, and Draco and I must take our leave." It was very, very dangerous to be out so late at night, especially in the Wizarding world. The terror of the First War with Voldemort was slowly returning.

Lewis nodded in understanding. "Well, then. I'd like to than you, Lady Malfoy, and you, Young Master Malfoy, for coming to meet Dr. Muraki."

The corner of Muraki's mouth twitched slightly at the mention of Draco's title. The teen wasn't sure if his mother had noticed it. He was curious, though, as to what caused the reaction.

Narcissa nodded. "I am pleased to be of assistance, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Muraki. Until we meet again."

Muraki, ever the gentleman, stood up and helped Naricssa out of her chair. "Lady Malfoy. Allow me to escort you to the door." He held out his arm to Narcissa, who took it.

Narcissa gave the doctor a polite smile and beckoned to her son. "Come, Draco. And a good evening to you, Mr. Lewis." She inclined her head at the other man.

Lewis stood up and bowed slightly. "Good evening, then, Lady Malfoy. Until our next meeting."

Muraki then guided Narcissa towards the exit of the restaurant, his steps ever graceful. "If you should ever be in need of my services," he said slowly, "do not hesitate to call for me."

The couple came to a stop a few steps away from the double doors that led to the outside world. Draco watched the proceedings from an arm's reach away, his mind furiously working to figure out why Muraki had given the offer.

His mother, it seemed, was also thinking about the same thing. "Is it not a bit early in the dance to present such opportunities?"

Muraki chuckled, and his amusement carried no apparent malice. "Nay, dear lady. It is but an offer from one kin to another."

Narcissa nodded, though Draco could detect a hint of uncertainty from her that most people would not be able to notice. "I see." A short pause, then, "Thank you, good sir, for your company this evening."

Muraki took the dark haired woman's hand and, bowing slightly, brushed his lips on the pale skin. "A pleasure meeting you, dear lady. Have a good evening." He went to the door and held it open for his cousin in law and her son.

Draco paused at the door and bid the gentleman a polite nod of the head and a reserved "Good evening." Just as he was about to turn away, however, he noticed something odd. Muraki's platinum-shaded hair, which had completely covered his right eye for the entire meal, had parted slightly to reveal the man's other eye. Draco saw something that no human eye should have – a long, thin, slitted pupil. Shocked, he finally turned and followed his mother out into the night. He did not notice his own quick pace.

When he looked back from his mother's side, he saw Muraki smiling at him. The man had taken on a sinister look, but Draco dismissed both it and the strange eye as a trick of the soft lighting from inside the restaurant. Or, rather, that was what he hoped.

That eye was eerily close to the eyes of the Dark Lord haunting his nightmares.

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Draco had met Muraki several times after that initial meeting during Muraki's stay in London, which lasted for about a month. Though Muraki was always pleasant to him, Draco could not shake off the feeling of foreboding and unease that grew stronger every time he talked with the elder man.

The doctor left days before Draco's return to Hogwarts, for a client of his in Japan was in need of his assistance. Before they parted, however, Muraki had given Draco his contact number. Just in case.

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The doctor was now looking at him with a calculating, almost predatory, look. It was unnerving, but Draco skillfully hid his discomfort behind a well-worn mask of casualness. For the first time in months, the crimson serpentine eyes that haunted him turned into a pair of silver eyes that had two pupils different from each other.

"Very well, then," was the heavily accented reply. "We shall take the boy with us. And I understand that, while your guardian will be leaving the country with us, he will arrive separately?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. We shall be meeting him at a later time. However, we should contact him without the knowledge of my other… companion. The meeting, should the other find out, would be rather disastrous. In return for your efforts, you will be provided with information and equipment related to my guardian's expertise."

Both Draco and Severus were rather startled when Muraki, in one of their pre-meeting conversations via phone, named several potions and potions ingredients as his price for smuggling them out of the country, but they wisely didn't pry. In their current situation, it wouldn't do to upturn another rock and set loose the hidden ant colony.

Draco held out his hand and Muraki shook it, sealing the deal. Later, at the hotel, Draco remembered the hungry look deep within Muraki's visible eye and wondered if he had deepened the pit he was trapped in.

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TBC

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Well, that's it. I'm working on the next chapter, though it might take me a week at least to release it. 

Comments and constructive criticisms are much appreciated.

Last edited: 13 December 2005

Chapter Word Count: 3394


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